Journey of the Chosen Undead
by Illseraec
Summary: A re-telling of a character journeying through the Souls universe as a Chosen Undead. Starts out in the Undead Asylum and will continue to add more parts as time goes on.
1. The Awakening

Derk Sers 

Damp air. That was the first thing that I awoke to. A dark, musty scent that filled both my lungs and my soul with dread. I wasn't sure where I was. Fleeting visions danced behind my eyes. Great kings, powerful magic, and an unmistakable sense of purpose that spurred my leathery, aged visage to movement. A noise above me! I gazed upwards just as a body fell to the floor. I started, observing the white, wispy glow, and glanced towards the heavens.

A small trapdoor had opened, and a knight, his armor glistening with silver and brown hues, gestured to me with a nod of his head. Somehow, his calm demeanor, completely complacent in the face of all the evil that I felt, relaxed me. He soon moved away, his beaten and tarnished body disappearing as the door closed. I felt my strength readily returning, and I arose, ready to face the challenges that lay before me.

A key. I picked it up off of the corpse that was in front of me. As I turned it over, its hollow, empty eyes and grimacing visage looked up at me. Its hands were clawed in a macabre last attempt at living, but it was far too late for salvation. That soul would never regain its _humanity_.

"_Humanity…_" The phrase echoed in my mind, and I felt a strange calling. Small glimpses of black, shadowy fragments began to play behind my eyes. I felt a growing hunger, an insatiable need for answers and for reason. I slid the key into the rusty lock, twisting to the right and opening the door with a creak. Flakes of rotten iron fell down, cascading around me as I announced my presence to the bleak, moldy walls.

I clutched a broken hilt in my hand. Brief flashes of combat returned to me. I saw skeletons, some larger than twenty men, hordes of demons vying to destroy me. My hand tightened, and I experimentally swung the weapon a few times. It slightly whistled as it cut through the air, my strokes sharp and precise. Combat was returning to me, and for good reason. I felt as though I'd need it.

I took a few tentative steps forward, feeling my old bones and joints flexing as I moved. The floor swayed and I regained my balance quickly, observing the shuffling lifeless creatures that occupied the hall. They appeared nearly the same as me, except vacant and with an apparent lack of a spirit. I studied them quietly for a moment, reflecting on what to do next. I walked forward grimly, ascending the steps to my eventual freedom.

A rusty, wet ladder awaited me, and I climbed upwards carefully, a wet slapping sound accompanying me as my feet and hands hit the rungs. After reaching the top, I saw a small blade reflecting off of a dark courtyard. I felt a kindred presence approaching the blade, and saw it was sunk into a small pile of bones, metal, and kindling. As I approached it, gentle warmth spread throughout my body, settling me.

I reached a hand out, almost embarrassed at first. I banished the feeling, my hand opening as I groped for the blade. Suddenly, there was a spark, and a bright flame blossomed, followed by a crackling sound. I sat down, reflecting upon my thoughts and what I knew. I soon found that I knew next to nothing, and got up in frustration. The warmth faded, fulfilling, and a piece of it seemed to linger with me. With a fresh set of eyes, I gazed upon the gigantic doors of the chapel.

Climbing up the steps, I felt a growing sense of fear. My hand tightened around the broken sword hilt in my grip, and I pushed the doors open. My shoulders flexed, blades sliding through wrinkled skin as I forced apart the ancient, splintered gateway. A barren room lay before me, scattered and broken vases and stones crumbling from the wall. I took a few steps forward, stopping as I heard the first footfall.

_Something is in this room with me…_ My thoughts flickered back to the magic and demons that I saw earlier. I bristled, hearing the footfalls stop. Swallowing my fear momentarily, I took a few steps forward, and was suddenly thrown backwards with incredible force as a black shadow slammed into the ground before me.  
"Wha…?!" I looked upwards, my body paralyzed with terror at the sight I beheld. Great, rippling blue skin, a massive hammer, and a maw with a set of razor sharp teeth immediately greeted me with a bestial roar, shaking me to the very core. The demon took a step forward, its gigantic, bulging stomach swaying with the tempo of its chaotic walk. The hammer in its hands was caked with old, dried blood, and I gulped, tensing my legs.

Without a moments' notice, the beast reared back, its rippling shoulder and leg muscles tightening as it swung the hammer downwards. I only managed to haphazardly throw myself to the side just in time to avoid becoming leather paste. The ground erupted into vibrations all around me, and several vases and stones were turned into powder. I turned back, seeing the creature immediately recover from its brutal onslaught.

It turned to face me, eyes aglow with the lust for death. Saliva dripped in disgusting strings from its teething, gnashing visage, pooling in all of the rotten, decaying filth that accommodated its slimy, monstrous body. I took a hop backwards, searching around me with a growing panic. Was this to be my tomb? Would I forever be erased, the tomes of history unable to tell the tale of how I escaped my hellish prison and gained freedom?

_Not here. Not today. I will fight against the darkness…_ The voice of reason echoed through every fiber of my being, and I noticed a gateway behind the demon. I broke into an immediate sprint, throwing caution to the wind as my slim albeit muscled legs carried me through into safety. The gate slammed shut behind me, replacing the smell of demon and rot with the smell of mold and wet cave. Not the best, but familiar and more inviting than the face of suffering.

Pushing one foot in front of the other, I soon reached a small room with another bonfire. Ignoring it and the corpse that stared forlornly at me, I pushed into a small archway, a long hallway ahead of me. As I looked forward, I saw a flash, almost of light reflecting off of metal, and moved lithely out of the way just in time for an arrow to whiz past me, embedding itself point first into the corpse.

I turned to look for the source of the arrow, just in time to see another of the undead. It gave a small grunt, emotionless for the most part, and nocked another arrow. I saw a passageway to the left, and I quickly moved through. The creature gave no indication of following, simply idly swaying from side to side. In the room lay a heater shield, beaten and pockmarked with a bluish color across the face.

I slipped my hand through the two leather straps, tightening my grip and flexing my shoulder. The shield fit comfortably, almost as if it were made for my arm. I walked out into the passageway again, holding the heater shield up to block the incoming arrow. It thudded against the shield, falling to the side as the hollow _tink!_ of arrowhead on metal echoed in the corridor. I set off at a brisk walk, the undead quickly turning and running away from me.

As I got further up the passage, I noticed a longsword sticking out of the body of a corpse. Worn handguard and pommel melded smoothly with a sharp, hand-and-a-half length blade. I pulled the sword from between the stones and flesh of the unlucky soul who had been cut down, letting the broken sword hilt fall from my hands. It fell onto the corpse with a dull thud, and I looked up, suddenly remembering the undead that had run off.

I walked forward again, turning into the corridor as he readied an arrow. I took a defensive stance, placing one foot in front of the other as I batted his feathered wooden missiles out of the way. He stopped once I reached him, seeming to take me in with his orange, glowing eyes. He gurgled once, suddenly dropping the bow and drawing a broken blade of his own with a quick and vicious downward swipe.

I reacted instinctively, old combat knowledge from a past life pushing me to slam my shield forward. His blow was blocked, and his arm flailed wildly out of the way. I took a single step back, sinew and muscle in my right arm tightening as I thrust forward into his leathery, pink flesh. The blade slid through his ribcage neatly, piercing whatever vitals he had left with a sharp, puncturing snap.

The light quickly faded from his eyes as I ripped the blade from its temporary home inside of his body. He fell quickly, becoming a steaming pile of soulless flesh on the ground. I walked past him towards a gate made of shimmering fog, placing my hand upon it. Almost as if with an unseen force, I was pulled through, passing effortlessly to the other side. When I turned back to check, there was simply an open doorway.

I walked forward, curious as to the fog that I had found. There was a wall with an iron grate in front of me, and through it, I could hear the sounds of someone shuffling as though adjusting themselves. I continued forward, curious, as the passage led through and around. At the left there was a staircase that led up, and there was also one that led down. Back the way I came there was another passageway that wrapped to the right, so I looked around the corner.

Nothing. I quickly returned to the stairway, checking the downstairs steps. Crumbling stone slipped underfoot as a reached a wrought iron gate that was locked. No luck there either, so I sighed and trudged back up the steps. I had a nagging feeling in the base of my skull as I turned and continued up the next level. I heard a sudden snap, and a large commotion, looking up to see a massive iron ball careening towards my face.

Broadsiding me, I was hurled to the side with incredible force, slamming against a wall as I felt things shift inside me that normally shouldn't. I thought the pain would hurt, but instead, I just felt empty. Standing to my feet in spite of my grievous injuries, I looked where the ball had gone. It crashed through the bricks, giving me an entryway to where I heard the commotion earlier.

I quickly rushed through, only to find a man settling himself on a pile of rubble to the right of the ball. He wore a full suit of armor, so I was unable to distinguish any major facial features. An insignia of some sort was present on his chestpiece and his shield, and a sword lay near his side. He gave an audible sigh as I approached, lifting his helm to regard me with a voice that was weak, but still commanded respect.

I quickly realized that he was the man who had dropped the corpse carrying the key for me. Realizing he was clearly on his last few breaths, I paid close attention, straining to hear his pained words.

"Oh, you…You're no hollow, eh? Thank goodness." His chest rose and fell with his labored speech, his fingers reaching up for me. "Thank goodness. I'm done for, I'm afraid…I'll die soon, then lose my sanity."

_I can't let him die…_ I thought. I realized I'd be unable to help him, but the yearning to see this kindred spirit fade from my plane of existence was still sad.

"I wish to ask something of you. You and I, we're both Undead…Hear me out, will you?"  
"Yes." I answered without hesitation, in my mind and out loud. He nodded his head once slowly, continuing after a brief pause.

"Regrettably, I have failed in my mission…but perhaps you can keep the torch lit. There is an old saying in my family. Thou who art Undead, art chosen. In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh Pilgrimage to the land of the Ancient Lords. When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead thou shalt know. Well, now you know…and I can die with hope in my heart…"

_He's close to death…_ The grim realization struck me, and I found myself leaning down, closer to this brave soul as I urged him with all of my being to continue to the very end.

"Oh, one more thing…here, take this." His hand opened up, and in his grasp he clutched a flask, shimmering orange and filled with a sparkling liquid. The very sight evoked the same feelings as the bonfire did within me, and I reached out without a moment's notice and gripped it in my hand, settling it on the belt around my waist.

"An _Estus Flask_, an Undead favorite. Oh, and this. Now, I must bid farewell. I would hate to harm you after your death. So, go now…and thank you…"

He handed me a key as well. I closed it in my fist, placing it in the small key satchel I had fastened to my belt. I looked down at him, so peaceful in his rest, and still so pained and struggling. I made a small decision, one that may haunt me but I felt would ultimately be for the best. I picked up the knight's blade, positioning it above his body. He simply looked up at me, as if in silent acknowledgement of the move I was about to make.

_Be at peace, brave sir Knight…may you find your eternal resting place among the legends of old…_ I thrust my blade downwards, piercing his chest where I knew his heart would be. His back arched in the throes of death's cold embrace, his helmet and armor rattling as the spasms began to bleed his life into the stone that he rested upon. His hand reached up towards me one last time, fingers outstretched.

"Hrggkt…but…why…" The brief words were all he had the chance to speak. After that, he was still and lifeless, his body continuing to spill blood around the wound. I left the blade sticking out of his body and embedded in the stone, a permanent marker for the brave soul. As I turned to leave, there was a soft, wisp-like, fading sound. It reminded me of the sound I had heard when the undead was slain earlier.

A white mist began to creep around my body, the remnants of the knight's corpse. Where there was once blood, death, and a brave soul, there was now this white fog that coalesced around my body, seeming to absorb under my skin. I felt invigorated, my strength renewed, as I understood that every action had a consequence. I placed a hand on my weapon, drawing it back from its sheathe as I continued on, ready to face whatever may lie ahead.

Walking up the staircase, I heard a gurgle and caught sight of a pair of orange eyes. Another undead lay at the top, his weapon drawn. I quickly cut him down, using the key to unlock the door. My movements were precise, calculated, as if I'd walked this way many times before. I pulled the gate open, retrieving the key and making quick work of the few that rushed through the crumbling stone to surprise me.

I turned the corner, my shield raised, just as an arrow pinged off of the shaped, hammered metal. My teeth gritted as I rushed forward, slicing the leg of the undead who dared raise a weapon against me. As it fell, startling and aghast, I hacked at its head, embedding the blade deep within the head. Placing my foot against the cheek, I kicked viciously, separating the blade from bone.

Again, the fading sound. More white mist began to gather, and I felt even more of my strength and expertise return. If this continued, I could no doubt reach unparalleled heights of greatness. I looked to the left, seeing a fog gate. Directly ahead was an archway with torches, but I decided I could come back. I had no doubts in my mind as to where the gate lead, and I fully intended to finish the struggle.

Walking through, the mist sucked me in again. I entered the room where I had first encountered the Demon in the church, only from a much higher angle. The beast looked up at me from the floor, a seemingly derisive grin spreading across its gaping face as though it were a smear of blood on a wall. I felt my blood boiling, wanting to extinguish the light from its sunken, bloodthirsty eyes.

With a deafening yell, I threw myself from the pedestal I rested on. I knew there would be no easy way down, but I wanted to take the direct route, no matter the cost. The beast continued to stare as I plunged down with incredible speed, my sword pointed in both of my hands. I made contact, the blade sinking deep into the flesh of the monster. It reared its ugly head backwards, roaring in pain as I ripped the blade free.

I leapt from the creature, hitting the ground as it spun to meet me, belly swaying. It gathered its legs, floating up into the air on wings barely able to carry its swollen, disgusting weight. Slamming into the ground, it lay resting for a moment while I furiously opened up the hide with a few well timed sword swings. It recovered quickly, counterattacking without me seeing the blow coming.

I was thrown backwards into a wall. Horribly shaken, I dropped my blade, scrabbling for the length of metal that reminded me of my combat fortitude. Pulling myself to my feet, I removed the _Estus Flask_ from my belt, taking a sip. The golden liquid filled me, restoring my confidence as well as the urge to put an end to the beast once and for all. I took a few steps forward, simply rolling out of the way or not being close enough to suffer a blow.

Each time the beast attacked, I moved out of the way, slashing at the roiling, scaly mass of hide that housed its powerful muscles. Scalding, black blood spurted from each of the wounds, slicking the floor and making it hard to predict where it would be next. It turned suddenly, raising the giant, bloody maul above its head. I dove between its legs, coming to a stop as the hammer crashed into the ground.

Rushing around to the front, I pulled my blade back, giving one final thrust into the creature's head. Directly between the eyes, all movement stopped for a brief moment. No grunts, snarls, howls of pain, blood, or any other stimuli graced me. Not even my heavy breathing eclipsed the event. I withdrew my blade with a loud, slippery pull and the recoil began. The beast simply fell to the side, a great roar coming to a crescendo.

The fading sound happened once more, blood and viscera disappearing and giving way to a new feeling of strength. In its place lay a small key, and I reached forward, picking it up and walking over to the doors. It was a decent sized key for what I had seen, but upon closer inspection it was rather tiny. I opened the doors to the chapel, staring at the powdery white stones that greeted me.

Walking up the beaten path, I was soon faced with a dead end. I stood carefully, contemplating whether or not to turn back or no. I heard a few distant flaps, as if a pair of wings was approaching, and I looked back one last time at the hellhole that I had emerged from. I shook my head, turning, as an explosion of feathers and caws drove me to reality. A giant bird was rearing its head!

It opened its talons, black feathers falling around me as I was pulled into the sky. The Asylum from which I came was now rapidly fading from view, the grey skies of the land I would know to be called _Lordran_ soon to be revealed. The bird flew at an alarming pace, while still gripping me close within its claws. I soon fell into a deep sleep, resting my body for whatever challenges awaited me.


	2. The Visions

While I slept, my mind was plagued with many visions. I saw a bleak forest, silvery and ashen colored trees lining its edges. Mist played betwixt the trees as though it were a dancer in the moonlight, shrouding the area in mystery. The vision moved upward, and I realized that one of the trees was not a tree, but in fact, a massive beast of stone. Curved horns jutted from its head, and its mouth was lined with many dark and sharp teeth.

Its eyes were closed, the chest barely rising and falling as it took in deep breaths. My vision panned, and suddenly began to dive between the cracks of a massive tree. I took the plunge, as sparks began to play at my vision. Lighting the hollow passageway, they continued in their fervor until it opened into a massive cave. A great wall of flame stood, burning as the only source of light in the darkness. It was awesome and terrifying at the same time.

As I watched, thin, fragile figures began to twist up from the earth. There were at least five of them. They scrambled towards the warmth, coveting it, almost seeming to crave it. Their tiny figures twisted and squirmed, searching through the searing blaze, seemingly unaffected by its heat. My vision flashed several times, each time a small piece of the flame coming to rest in their hands, then sparks. Everything grew dark, and when it became light, there was chaos.

There was a shroud of tattered cloth on the ground, softly cast upon by the light from the spears. It began to rumble and shimmer, rising from the earth. The mound gained mass, substance, and fear as it was revealed to house skeletons. Grimaces and shattered jaw bones peeked out amidst ribcages rotted and whole. A bony hand reached out, its thin fingers withered with decay, and curled upward as a wisp of flame burned brightly.

The massive skull that was covered in the cloak of death and decay simply looked upon the warm flame it its hand. The fingers curled protectively towards it, the small fire hovering above the yellowed bone. Sparks continued to play around it, and the undead figure simply stood, the cloak seeming to shiver with an evil energy. A black hue softly emanated from the unknown menace.

Then, suddenly, my vision flashed to a woman. Her skin was grey, her lips blue, and she had an unreadable expression on her face. In between her two hands, she held another piece of this fire, the light glinting off of her cracked, pockmarked hands. Her hair was long and silver, and fell in slender, web-like tendrils down her hood and robe. The cloth was frayed and had a golden outline along the edges.

As she held the fire aloft, there was a rustling to her left and right. I realized that there were others there as well! All hooded figures, all with their hands up. They coveted the warmth, I could feel. They craved this fire, this source of their life and power, and they gathered in a cult-like circle around the woman. The fire shone brightly, illuminating the small area they rested in, while the fog around them was kept at bay.

After that, a bright column of flame erupted before my eyes. There was a King of some sort, his arms crossed in front of the blaze. There was column after column of featureless, indistinguishable knights that zoomed past, light entering the cave where I had first seen the King. Everything was moving so fast, I had no time to make out his face or his features, only that he wore a crown.

The last thing I saw in the cave was a pair of hands. A small, fluttering bit of the fire burned between them. The hands looked incredibly human, almost similar to my own were I a few years younger. The man slowly stood, his thin yet muscled body cradling the flame to his chest as a mother cradles a newborn to her bosom. Whoever he was, he did not want to lose this life-giving gift that he had been bequeathed.

My view suddenly shifted, expanded out of the cave. What I saw now was a massive battlefield. The great stone beasts, that I now recognized to be dragons, were flying through the air. One such beast, presumably the one I saw in the beginning of my vision, was on the ground, and he opened his mouth, twin sets of teeth stretching as he bellowed his challenge to those who had come to power.

The King that I had mentioned before, his beard gray, held aloft a hand that suddenly blossomed with a fierce lightning. His armor shone silver and reflected the light over the white fur that accented his protective covering. A crown with multiple, uneven spikes adorned his head, and his chestpiece was solid, bearing a depiction of something I did not quite recognize. The bracer on his hand began to spark in tandem with the fearsome power he wielded.

He cast said spear up into the sky, bringing it into contact with a massive stone dragon. A scale broke off, and the beast roared in pain. Other spears quickly joined the fray, and my view of the King expanded until I could see a legion of warriors, all solemn with their faces set. Soon the sky was flooded with spears, more than you could count. They shot skyward with great urgency, seeking targets to destroy.

The men who threw them were all silver, their armor plated and scalloped. Their headpieces had a slit in the front for both eyes and a gap under the chin. The features of the men could not be distinguished, nor could it be told if women inhabited the armor as well, as the build was distinctly unisex. Silver swords and shields accompanied them, and the horns on the helms blazed aglow with the sudden renewal of their magical assault.

Scale after scale was hewn off of the beasts, and they began to fall, slaking the thirst of the earth with their bodily fluids. Still the Knights renewed their attack, failing to relent even in the face of such gruesome slaughter. The ground was barren, still ashen, and beginning to turn black. Grey clouds hung overhead, and the scent of scorched earth was rampant. There was a deep rumbling sound not too far from the King, where more events began to unfold.

The woman who had been kneeling before had now arisen, and flames burned all around her and the acolytes who followed. I realized she must have been some sort of witch to command the powerful magic that she did. The acolytes all carried a pole or casting implement of some kind, and were waving them around, hewing great firestorms into the land. The ground quickly gave way to burning and the trees soon vanished from the ashen forest.

The undead lord who had risen with his cloak of bones now stood before the dragons that had fallen. His arms raised, I got a glimpse of a large curved sword resting in his bony clutches. His cloak spread wide, and disease and death began to flow from his body, along with the black aura that I had seen. What was left of the dragons on the ground was quickly eroded, their stone chipping away until only flakes remained, carried off by the plagued winds.

After nearly all of the dragons had fallen, I witnessed something that I never thought I would see. An opaque, bloody hand gripped a handful of dragon scales, crushing them with its might. My vision pulled back to reveal another dragon, entirely devoid of scales, its white skin glistening with the blood of its brethren. It reared its head back with a mighty roar, and lightning struck the ground, signifying the end of the stone beasts that once ruled the land.

The scaleless dragon rested upon a gigantic mountain of all the corpses of its previous ancestors, blood, fire, and death running through in rivulets that stained the landscape. Long tendrils, made dark by the blood that coated them, ran along the dragon's back as he continued to cry out into the night. Whether it was a cry of pain or a cry of victory, I couldn't be sure, although the sense of dread in my stomach told me it was elation.

My eyesight turned bright white, and were I conscious I more than likely would have strained, holding a hand to my face. Then I was floating through clouds, and a great mist gave way to reveal a beautiful land. There was a massive circular ring built around it, and three bridges extending into the epicenter of the civilization. Vast towns and rolling forests passed over my eyes.

_"Amazing…" _I thought to myself. The center of the city was a massive castle, the great spires and towers rising up into the sky like a multi-headed spear. The sheer beauty of the city amazed me, and I found myself nearly breathless. I took it all in, the gentle sloping valleys, the wide stone passages, and the glorious rays of sunlight that shone down upon this place. I wondered how a country so wonderful could turn so dark in what seemed like an instant.

My vision flashed down into the city, amid crumbling ruins and withered trees. A woman knelt down, steep cliffs at her back and ruined stone at her front. She attempted to hold onto a small spark, an ember of the great age that was left, but to no avail. Her robe was disheveled and twisted about her feet, and she knelt over a man, her shoulders slumped in sorrow.

The man was of the same condition I had seen the ragged, pink undead in the Asylum that I had just left. His body has covered in standard silver armor, the pauldrons in battered condition and the body disfigured in some places. As she brushed his eyes closed, a symbol appeared on his neck. A dark circle burned into his flesh, surrounded by a corona of gently moving flames.

The flames moved in a circle, becoming a glowing beacon that obscured all trace of the man and woman. All of the scenes that I had witnessed came flooding back to me, suddenly overwhelming in all of their quickness. I didn't understand for what purpose I had been put here, but I knew one thing for certain: I would find out what had laid waste to this great kingdom, and I would do everything in my power to set it right.

If only I knew at the beginning how foolhardy that mindset was…


	3. First Impressions of Lordran

Dark Souls Chapter III

My head was fuzzy as the vision behind my eyes slowly faded from black. I grunted, looking up and taking in my surroundings. The first thing that my eyes alighted on was the familiar, warm glow of the bonfire. I stared at the blade for a moment, watching the glow of the flame cast an orange pallor across the large, withered oak tree resting just behind it. Small broken steps adorned the roots, adding age and mystery to the surroundings.

"Well now, what do we have here?" The sudden voice made me jump, jerking my head to the right. Atop a small shelf of rock there was an armored man sitting. His chain mail shone dully, the links rough and crudely hammered. A bluish glow was given to the armor by the bonfire and the green flora surrounding him. Stubble covered the lower half of his face, and he seemed to glance at me sour countenance from under his thick black eyebrows and shaggy hair.

"You must be a new arrival. Let me guess. Fate of the Undead, right? Well, you're not the first. But there's no salvation here. You'd have done better to rot in the Undead Asylum…"  
My mind flashed back to the encounter with the Asylum Demon, and my hands tightened, taking a step forward. He knew things, and I would find out exactly what.

"But, too late now." He gave a resigned sigh, as if he were incredibly world weary, and shuffled his feet together and apart several times. "Well, since you're here...let me help you out. There are actually two Bells of Awakening. One's up above, in the Undead Church. The other is far, far below, in the ruins at the base of Blighttown. Ring them both, and something happens. Brilliant, right?"

He gave a small chuckle, clapping his hands together in a mock gesture of his feigned intellectual jab. I continued to look at him, nodding slowly and motioning with my hand for him to continue. The fake smile dropped from his face, and he gave a relieved sigh before speaking again.

"Not much to go on, but I have a feeling that won't stop you. So, off you go. It is why you came, isn't it? To this accursed land of the Undead? Hah hah hah hah…"

"..." I attempted to speak, but no words came to me. I simply looked at him for a few more moments and then turned my back. My feet guided me over rocky stones towards a well, and I saw the same shimmering mist that surrounded me earlier coalescing into a ball atop a corpse. The body was hanging halfway into a well of some sorts. I peered down into its depths, but found nothing, so I reached for the ball of vapor on the corpse.

A few fragments of wispy, black energy formed in my hand. Holding them somehow set me at ease, and then I had a brief flash back to when I first awoke and began traversing through the hellish nightmare that was my journey. The yearning for humanity returned, and yet I resisted the urge to utilize it just yet. Something told me I would need to hold onto it, for whatever hardships I may find later.

I turned back to the Crestfallen Warrior, approaching him again. He saw the fragments sitting in my hand, and a glint of understanding flickered behind his eyes. He shook his head slightly, clearing his throat before speaking again.

"Hm, what? Restoring your humanity? Well, there are a few ways to go about it...Collect it bit by bit from corpses, or you can butter up a cleric, and get yourself summoned."  
I looked at him blankly, tilting my head at the mention of the word cleric. He nodded briefly, slightly wringing his hands together before he spoke again.

"And the quickest way, although I'd never do it...is to kill a Healthy Undead, and pillage its humanity. Coveting thy neighbor is only human, after all! Hah hah hah hah…" The chuckles that came from him this time were less feigned, and more of a symbol of his regret or chagrin. He seemed to be completely against fighting unless he had to. I felt a stab of pity for this poor soul, trapped in a world where he was doomed to die.

He seemed to sense what I was feeling, but took it the wrong way, for he sharply looked up at me with sudden venom in his tone.  
"What are you looking at? Don't try anything clever. You might regret it."

I shook my head side to side, motioning for him to speak again. I'd heard about Bells and a Church and some place called Blighttown.

"Hm?" He looked up again from the wringing of his hands, and I noticed just how seasoned the warrior was. Wrinkles around his eyes and nose indicated a wisdom past what his demeanor indicated. He seemed tired, world weary, almost ready to collapse at any given moment. He saw me tensed up and gave a deep sigh, shaking his head as if to warn me against anything I might attempt.

"What, you want to hear more? Oh, that's all we need. Another inquisitive soul. Well, listen carefully, then… One of the bells is up above in the Undead Church, but the lift is broken." He pointed behind himself and up over broken stone walls, to a massive column lifting up towards a chapel-like structure. "You'll have to climb the stairs up the ruins, and access the Undead Burg through the waterway."

The Crestfallen Warrior pointed the opposite way, past the well. A set of stairs wound around the side of the mountain, disappearing out of sight. Further beyond, several pillars and a stone bridge led up to a large, dilapidated town square. That must be the way to the Undead Burg. I could feel a sense of dread emanating from the town, but I knew that my journey would take me there no matter where I went.

He watched my face tighten, and laughed aloud, continuing at a rambling pace, suddenly animated.

"The other bell is back down below the Undead Burg, within the plague-infested Blighttown. But I'd die again before I step foot in that cesspool! Hah hah hah hah!" I looked at him, surprised at his sudden cheerfulness. But something caught my attention; he had mentioned that he died before. How was he here if he had died before? I prodded him for more information, but his gaze turned downwards and he refused.

"Bloody hell, what is it now? You ask too many questions." I balked at his sudden anger, but I refused to give leeway. He simply shook his head once more, his decision final. "Hm? What now? I'm not up for chatting. Leave me alone."

I shrugged, irritated as I turned and stalked off. If he wanted to be stubborn and refuse to tell me what was on his mind, I'd find out what he meant for myself! I looked towards the broken lift, wondering if he was telling me a false tale. Perhaps he wanted me to go off alone, through the waterway, towards whatever danger was lurking in the Undead Burg. To hell with him, I'll go that way and prove that I am not just some Undead buffoon.

I set off up the stairs at a brisk pace, the slightly dry air blowing off of my skin. I could taste death in the air, and knew that there were beasts close by. As I rounded the corner, a motion caught my eye, and I looked up to see an undead throwing a small clay pot bound with rope at me. I attempted to move back, but the pot smashed into my chestpiece, covering me with flames that blossomed to cover my whole body with a hungry ferocity.

I cried out, but realized quickly that I felt no pain. Simply an itchy sensation where the fire gnawed at my withered, red flesh. I stepped forward, confident in my abilities, as another undead closed in with a blade, opening my chest with a series of quick slashes. I stumbled back, momentarily staggered as my dry skin simply parted for the sharpened weapon hilt that he was wielding.

Pulling my blade from its sheath, I walked forwards, cutting him down with a single stroke. Another undead came from around the corner of the staircase and leapt at me with an axe. I raised up my shield to block it and I was pushed towards the edge of the cliff. I pushed him off of me with a vicious parry when he attempted the attack again. Raising my sword for a slash to his chest meant to take him out, I heard the undead atop the stairs grunt once more.

Just before I had time to finish off the foe in front of me, a clay pot smashed me directly in the side of my head. The flames engulfed me, and I awkwardly shook as the undead embedded his axe directly in the center of my sternum. I felt bones crunch and I pitched backwards off the edge of the cliff. I screamed out, yelling my fury as I spun in circles in the air. Forest, trees, and rocks rushed up to meet me, and I greeted the blackness with the same calm as the flames.

I opened my eyes after what seemed like an eternity, staring at the bonfire in front of the tree once more. I looked up and to my right, and the Crestfallen Warrior was still there, as moody as ever. After regaining my composure for several minutes, I stood up and trudged back to where the undead defeated me the first time. As the first one came forward, I cut him down and rushed forwards, rolling as the second undead threw the clay jar.

I sprung forwards after my roll, plunging my sword through the brittle plate armor of the undead with the axe. As he fell backwards off the cliff, I took the stairs several at a time, slaying the final foe before he could throw another of those damnable pots. Taking a deep breath, I walked back towards the base of the cliff, where there was a bright spot of crimson blood and a large pile of green essence.

I reached for it, and as if on a whim, it bounded up my arms and into my body, filling me with renewed strength. I reached the top of the staircase and saw a tunnel to my left and a corpse with a white glow hanging off of the ledge. I walked towards it, grabbing a white hunk of essence and stowing it away for later. Doubling back for the tunnel, I entered it and glanced left and right. Right was too dark for me to see, and the left housed a large rat by a gate.

As I turned to the left, the rat eagerly lunged forward. It was a large, diseased beast, reeking of death and decay and its eyes were cloudy white. Large, yellowed teeth snapped viciously at me, and I held up my shield just in time for them to ping harmlessly off. With another dent added to my thoroughly kneaded heater shield, I dispatched of the vermin with a few quick strokes of my blade, picking up the essence of of this corpse as well.

Continuing down the hallway, I approached a locked gate and instead turned into the door, which lead up a narrow staircase. Seeing the sky again, I rushed up and was greeted to my right with a walkway out of reach for now. To my left, there were stacks of ruined and rotted barrels, but some in a seemingly acceptable condition. A few undead swarmed forward, their movements jerky and predictable, and they were slain.

Upon resuming my trek, I came to a series of wooden towers which would normally house an archer. A single firebomb throwing undead was between them, swaying from side to side. As I moved to the left of his downward stroke, his counterattack was brought to a screeching halt as my longsword pierced him from behind. Watching his lifeless corpse slide off of my blade, I found another room filled with empty chests as well as a fog gate.

I walked through the fog gate, expecting terror to greet me, but instead there was a staircase that wound up and to the left. I climbed it, following the leftmost path to a broken walkway that I would not be able to cross in my present condition. So I instead walked out through the right, up a set of stairs. A shadow fell across the bridge, and a large gust of wind blew around me as a massive clawed foot slammed down.

I was knocked backwards and quickly rose to my feet, watching as the beast that had slammed down flew up towards another part of the castle. Perhaps that would be a foe that I could face at another time, but I quickly settled myself to purging the undead of their various resting spots. I ignored a wooden shield that I found at the bottom of a battlement walkway, and found myself in a small square with a set of stairs leading downward.

After passing through a few doors with not much to be found, I came upon a small man. I nearly attacked him, but saw that he bore no ill will. He had a small mildewed cap and wore all black and tattered clothing. His skin was the same thin, leathery visage that I had upon my person, and his eyes were hollow holes in his skull. He looked up in delight as I approached, and spoke with the cheer of a salesman.

"Well now...You seem to have your wits about you, hmm? Then you are a welcome customer!" He gestured excitedly to his wares as he continued, holding up various powders, talismans, and even motioning to a selection of weapons in the back. "I trade for souls. Everything's for sale! Nee hee hee hee hee!"

I looked around, picking up a few satchels of the golden, grain-like substance he referred to as "Repair Powder". He let me know that if my weapon ever became in a state where it was at risk of being broken or unusable to simply sprinkle it on, and it would be good as new. The transaction was strange and unfamiliar. As I agreed to purchase the goods, some of the white essence that I took to understand as being "souls" of my enemies left my body.

It didn't leave me feeling weaker, which was a good thing. It was simply the currency that goods and services were exchanged for in this land. While I shopped, he offered a little bit of conversation, which I took heed of.

"Things are getting treacherous in these parts." He motioned down below him. "A horrible goat demon has moved in below. And up above, there's that humongous drake, and a bull demon, too." He pointed up, flapping his arms and then holding them out in a show of strength to emphasize his point. "If you stick around this place, it might end up being your grave! Nee hee hee hee hee!" He drew a finger across his throat, skin stretched tight over lip and gum.

I thanked him for his advice and departed. As I turned my back and continued the way I came, his voice followed me.

"Thank you kindly. Nee hee hee hee hee!" I was not fond of the obnoxious, high pitched laughter at all, but at least I had a steady supply of information and resources if need be. I continued past the barricaded door by where I had found the wooden shield. Coming to the top of a staircase, I noticed a few undead atop a pillared structure, but to my left was another bonfire, its dull ember beckoning.

As I lit the flame, I pulled some of the essence that I had acquired off of the various corpses from my rucksack. Holding one of the white globes in my hand, I studied how it flowed and ebbed with a seemingly invisible breeze before crushing it in my hand. Feeling the strength bleed into my body, I sat down at the fire, intending to hone my skills as best as I could with my meager collection of souls. Whatever I could get, I would need it for the perils ahead...


End file.
